Through The Looking Glass, Part 1
by CorkyB45
Summary: My take on the third season. I'm going to ignore Tom as much as I can, but the writers seem to insist on shoehorning him into the plots of the upcoming episodes. I can only hope someone puts a bullet in him soon. Chapter 4 completes the first half of this story. I'll come back after the finale and finish with Part 2.
1. Chapter 1

If someone had told her a week ago she would for all intents and purposes be living with Raymond Reddington she would have laughed in their face and called them crazy. Now, less than a week after shooting U.S. Attorney General Tom Connolly that is exactly what she was doing.

The first two days of her new life as a fugitive were two of the most hectic, crazy days of her life. First, she was accused of being a spy and framed for the murder of the Orea CIA agents and a U.S. Senator. Once she managed to escape the Post Office with help from Red, Cooper and a reluctant Ressler she'd made the mistake of once again going to Tom because she was angry at Red for not telling her what she wanted to know about her mother. With Tom's dubious help they found and lost Andropov, recovered some data on a flash drive and then got into a gun fight where Andropov was killed by the Cabal. All in all, not the way she anticipated the day ending. Then to make the day worse she'd slept with Tom. She could try to excuse it away by saying she needed the familiar with everything around her falling apart. She knew better. She'd slept with Tom because she was still angry with Red and knew if he found out about her spending the night with Tom that he'd be angry in return.

The next morning, she realized how stupid she'd been when she found the flash drive had magically moved from her pocket to the pocket of Tom's button down. Would she never learn that he couldn't be trusted? As soon as as she could make her escape she'd hurried to tell Cooper what she'd discovered on the flash drive about his doctor's involvement with the Cabal. That was the best part of her day. She wasn't sure exactly what the records showed, but she felt there was a good chance that his whole illness had been something engineered by the Cabal to control him. She was only sorry that she'd let her emotions override Cooper's common sense when she'd pulled a gun on Connolly. His smug recitation of what he was going to do to her friends and Red caused her to react emotionally. It was while she held the gun pointed at Tommy Connolly that she remembered holding a gun on someone else a very long time ago. Just like she'd done back then she'd pulled the trigger and put a bullet in the chest of the man at the other end of her gun.

After Cooper told her to run she realized what Red had been keeping from her for all the time he'd been working with her and the FBI. The night of the fire when she was four years old she'd shot her own father for hurting her mother. The thought of Connolly hurting her friends and Red triggered the same protective reaction in her again. This time Red wouldn't be able to suppress the memories for her. She would have to learn to deal with them. Hopefully, he would be able to help her learn to do that.

She'd immediately called Red from a phone she'd stolen from some woman's stroller. Within minutes he was leading her into a van and into his world. She was now running from the same task force she'd been a proud part of the day before. The look on Red's face when she told him she remembered what she'd done on the night of the fire was one of profound grief. She knew he felt like he'd failed her and she would need to convince him that wasn't the case. He'd kept her secret safe for nearly thirty years. Now it was time for her to start bearing the burden of that night's events.

In the van they'd changed into Metropolitan Police uniforms and after an ingenious maneuver to escape the grasp of the police and FBI, they'd climbed into a police cruiser and escaped in the only way open to them. Once they were outside the police lines they'd driven to a bar that was already prepared to shelter them for a week. What neither Red nor his people knew was that the bar owner's sister would prove to be a more law abiding citizen than her brother and she called in a tip to the FBI. For most people this might have been a major setback, but not for Red. He'd just rolled with it and accelerated the next part of his plan. Ressler bless his heart had learned a bit about how Reddington thought over the past two years of exposure to the criminal. He'd figured out the diversion was drawing them to a certain part of town and reinforced the road blocks before she'd been able to get past them like Red did. With no other choice she ran to the Russian Embassy and climbed the fence just before Ressler and Samar managed to capture her. As she stared them in the eyes she'd declared herself a Russian sleeper agent seeking asylum. Not the best course of action she was to find out, but the only one open to her at that moment.

Again Red somehow managed to convince the right people to help get her away from where her own choices had lead her. By the time she'd found her way back to Red's side he'd already put into motion his next step in the plan to expose the Cabal. He'd taken cover in a diner owned by an associate. What she didn't know when she'd joined him was that everything that was going to happen was all a part of a brilliant prison break for an attorney Red wanted to help him take down the Cabal. To resolve a hostage situation that Red arranged with his own anonymous call to the FBI tip line, one of Red's demands was to have Marvin Gerard brought to the diner to act as negotiator. Once he'd been delivered and was inside the diner they made their escape via a devilishly clever freezer/elevator. It took the FBI hours to figure out where they'd gone.

After their escape from the the diner Red had sent Marvin off to Tahiti with his fiancé and they'd headed down to the harbor. Once there they'd been lead onboard a freighter and into one of the nicest shipping containers she'd ever seen. She'd once heard Red tell someone that he'd spent weeks in a shipping container on a ship held by Somali pirates. If that container was anything like this one she felt a lot less sympathy for him. The container was beautifully decorated, with a sitting area along with an amazing sound system, a small kitchen, and behind the kitchen was a bedroom with a queen size bed and full bathroom.

Finally, she'd been able to take a breath and relax. She'd been shaken after the scene in the diner where she'd fought off a customer that tried to disarm her. If she'd simply fought him off she knew she wouldn't be as affected by the encounter. But, she'd beat the man so severely his ribs had been broken and a lung punctured. Everyone in the diner had looked at her like she was someone to be feared. Everyone that was except for Red. He'd calmly stopped her and disarmed her.

When she'd asked Red how he dealt with people looking at him like that he'd dodged the question. He'd distracted her briefly with a story about how he'd wanted to be a ship's captain as a boy. When she'd told him that he would have made a good captain and then asked him why he didn't pursue that when he'd been in the Navy. He'd dismissed her question telling her that we can't do every little thing that we want to in this life. But, then he'd come back to her question about how to deal with the look of fear from others. After a pause he'd told her that when he looked at her he saw . . . and without another word he smiled at her. He'd opened the doors of the shipping container then and lead her outside. He pointed out the North Star and with a statement that took her breath away, told her that she was his North Star and that when he looked at her he saw his way home! He'd quickly retreated back into the container, obviously uncomfortable after revealing so clearly his feelings to her.

"Lizzie, why don't you go ahead and lay down. You've got to be exhausted. You've had a busy couple of days," he told her gently and led her to the bedroom.

Looking around the room she realized that there was only one bed.

"Where are you going to sleep?" she asked him confused.

"I don't sleep much and I have a few calls to make yet. I'll take the couch if I get tired," he said with a slight smile.

She wanted to refuse, but she was exhausted. If this was what Red's life has been like for the past twenty plus years she understood the dark circles that often appeared under his eyes. This kind of pace could burn a person out.

"Alright, but if you do get tired promise me you'll come in here and lay down. The bed is big enough for two and I think we are both adult enough to be able to share a bed to sleep," she told him.

"I promise to think about it. Good night," he told her before walking back into the front of the container.

She knew that he wouldn't be joining her to sleep. He was always so careful to answer her in such a way that would keep him from lying to her. After tonight she'd make it a point to get him to rest more, even if that meant forcing him to do it somehow. Tonight she was too tired to keep her eyes open any longer.

When she woke up a few hours later it was to find the container swaying in the air as it was unloaded from the ship and placed on a flatbed truck. Once she was fully awake she questioned Red about the change of plans.

"We were out. We were heading to Spain. What happened . . .what changed your mind?" she asked him as he put their breakfast dishes back in the kitchen area.

"I received some news that concerned a company that the Cabal uses to fund a large portion of their operations. There has been an attack on one of their locations and data was stolen that if released to the public could cause the company to go bankrupt. We are going to go in and get that data from the thief. It will allow us to use it as a lever to force the Cabal to clear your name and hopefully they will turn the director over to us as well."

Liz was amazed once again at the reach and resources Red commanded. There he was in a shipping container in the middle of the ocean and he'd discovered this information. Within hours he'd devised a plan to recover the data and put additional pressure on the Cabal, all while she slept. Now she understood why he didn't sleep much, you missed too much!

The motion of the truck as it rolled along the highways leading from Norfolk to wherever their ultimate destination was almost as soothing as the motion of the waves had been aboard ship. It almost caused her to doze off, but she was determined to stay awake if Red didn't sleep. She'd tried to convince him to get a couple of hours of sleep before they headed out. He'd told her that he'd managed about three hours on the couch before she'd woken up. This was the first patently false statement he'd ever made to her, at least to her knowledge. She considered it a white lie and let it pass.

After about ten hours the truck stopped and she heard the driver rap on the door. After that she heard the truck pull away, leaving them parked somewhere. Red grabbed his duffle bag, opened the door and lead the way down the ramp that had been setup. But, not before clapping his hands to turn out the lights. Only Reddington would install a "Clapper" in his custom home away from home.

"Welcome Lizzie to the land of the double bacon corn dog!"

It may have been a failing in Sam's education of her, but she had no idea where the home of the double bacon corn dog was exactly. A quick scan of the cars parked in the lot around their shipping container led her to place them in Iowa. As she followed Red through the lot towards someplace only he knew she listened to him fill in the blanks of what had taken place over night. He had just reached the end of his story when he came to a stop still in the middle of the parking lot. She noticed him looking around in confusion.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

"Dembe. He was supposed to meet us here. This is the rendezvous point. We are going to need a car," he told her as he reached into the duffle to grab the satellite phone.

While Red tried to find out where Dembe was she made use of her hot wiring skills to get them some wheels. Listening to Red talk to Glenn, the frustrating little man from the DMV she was concerned that if Glenn didn't quit fooling around and find Dembe he might not get a chance to frustrate Red again.

Red threw the phone back into the bag and tossed the bag into the back seat. She could tell he was worried. In the two years that she'd worked with Red Dembe had never been far from his side. It had been a surprise to her when he'd left Dembe behind when he'd come to help her escape. This simple action told her just how important she was to him. Of course it was still nice to hear him call her his North Star, she wasn't afraid to admit that at least to herself.

The two of them were quite the team. Between the two of them they'd managed to track down Eli Matchett and determine what his plans were for the data he'd stolen. They'd then sent the FBI to stop him from releasing the vectors that would have crippled the world's food supply. After a brief delay they'd sent their copy of the Verdant data to Aram, via fax to let him know about the new seed stored in the Verdant warehouses. The delay allowed Red to deliver a message to the Cabal via Verdant's CEO. All in all, a successful trip to the heartland. Even if they barely managed to stay ahead of the FBI and Lizzie shot yet another man in defense of Red. The difference this time was that they managed to get the wounded man treatment in time to save his life.

They were headed out of Iowa as fast as their stolen car could carry them. Red once again doing his best to reassure her that she was still a decent person. It was during this conversation between the two of them that the satellite phone rang. She could tell that whoever was on the other end was sharing news that Red didn't like. After he hung up he'd pulled off the road. He then dialed a number from memory.

"Kate, Dembe's been taken. Find out everything you can about the man in the video that Glenn has uncovered. He's on his way to you with it now. Then I want a plane ready for us outside of Omaha. We are coming back and I want information on the man with Dembe when I get there," he told her without giving her a chance to say a word.

"What did Glenn say about Dembe?"

Red pulled back onto the road before answering her. He'd been driving down the local back roads trying to get them out of Iowa. Now it was obvious they didn't have time to continue creeping along hoping to find their way out of state. They had a destination now and an urgent need to get there.

"He said that Dembe's been taken. Somehow the Cabal found a way to make him come to them. They are going to try to get him to give up our location. They don't know Dembe. He'll die rather than give us up. I won't let that happen," he said showing an anger that she'd never seen in him before.

"How would they have drawn him out? Would they have been able to convince him that they had you?" she asked.

"He would have verified anything they told him before surrendering himself to them. Hell, call Kaplan back and tell her to check on Dembe's family. Make sure they are all okay."

"Okay . . . where is his family? I didn't realize he had a family,' she said reaching for the phone.

"They are in New York City. Dembe met someone when he was in college. They had a daughter. She moved with the daughter to New York from London. The mother passed away a couple of years ago. His daughter is working in the fashion industry in New York or was until she had a daughter of her own a few months ago. One of the good things about us being in the U.S. so much is that they've gotten to see a lot of each other. The granddaughter is an absolute doll. My guess is that he gave himself up to save them. Now he won't give us up to save himself," he huffed exasperatedly.

Hold on Dembe, we are on our way, was all that kept running through Red's mind as he drove them to Omaha.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own the Blacklist or any of its characters. If they'd like to loan them to me for a bit, I won't mind.

Lizzie was surprised when Red pulled the car to a stop behind a non-descript apartment building in Adams-Morgan. If she wasn't mistaken Aram lived near here. Then after watching him pick the lock on a second floor apartment she realized that Aram didn't live near here, he lived right here! What was Red thinking breaking into Aram's place?

"Red what are we doing here in Aram's apartment?" she asked him in confusion.

Red who was looking through Aram's kitchen took a few moments to answer her question.

"Not looking for wine, he doesn't appear to have any," he said looking in her direction. "Think about it Lizzie. Where is the last place the FBI would think to look for us . . . in their own homes. I doubt we will ever enter either Donald or Samar's place since they would be more likely to shoot first and answer questions later. I need Aram's assistance tracking down our next Blacklister. I've also arranged to meet Leonard Caul here. He's going to help me find out who the man is in the video with Dembe that Glenn forwarded to me."

She wasn't surprised that he needed Aram's help. The mans was a technology whiz. If the FBI hadn't recruited him she's sure he would have ended up earning millions helping those on the other side of the law. I guess he is doing that now, without earning the millions.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Guns were quickly in their hands. The most mundane circumstances were now forcing her to be prepared to defend herself with lethal force. Red walked up to the door silently. After a glance thru the door's peephole he relaxed and holstered his weapon. She followed his example as he opened the door allowing Caul to slip inside.

"Lizzie why don't you take this chance to freshen up. I don't know when you'll get another chance," he told her. He clearly wanted to meet with Caul alone for whatever reason.

"I'm going to take that as you not needing or wanting me to hear about what you two are going to discuss and not you saying I smell," she snarked at him before heading into Aram's bedroom in search of a shower.

Red shook his head at her back as she stormed off. He really needed to work with her on that hair trigger temper of hers. She would need patience if she ever expected to survive in the criminal world. As much as he was trying to clear her name he knew she would never able to return to her life as an FBI agent. She was in his world now and likely would be forever.

"Did you find out who the man is in the picture with Dembe?" he asked Caul.

After hearing what Caul had to tell him about Solomon he was more afraid for Dembe's safety. He knew Dembe would never betray him, as much as Red wished he would to save him anymore pain. He had to trust Caul's ability to track Solomon's movements in order to locate where he was holding Dembe.

As Caul was exiting the building Red heard Aram's voice trying to find out what Caul had been doing in his apartment. He waited just inside the entrance to the apartment's living room with his gun drawn. As Aram slowly entered the open door he saw Red and froze. He didn't move until Red motioned with the gun for him to come closer. Aram shuffled forward until he could close the door behind him. After that he made no move to get any closer.

"Wha . . . what are you doing here in my apartment?" he asked Red.

Before Red could answer him Lizzie walked out of his bedroom with a head of wet hair and a big smile on her face.

"Using your place to shower for the first time in days," she told him before giving him a hug that he returned wholeheartedly.

"I probably shouldn't say this, but you look great," Aram said with a glance at her now blonde hair.

"Aram we need your help tracking down a Blacklister. He's known as the Djinn," Red told him trying to get them back to business.

"Um, I'm going to have to tell Agent Ressler about this," Aram warned him.

"That's fine," Red said without concern.

Aram was able to help them setup a meeting with the Djinn after a quick dip into the deep Web. They left his place after asking him to give them a thirty-minute head start before contacting Ressler. He'd given Lizzie another hug before she left. He knew that she'd done some very bad, horrible things, but to him she was still the person that he'd fought with side by side against Anslo Garrick's men. He'd wait the thirty-minutes they'd asked him for before making his way back to the Post Office to make his report in person. He knew with that big of a lead they wouldn't be caught.

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Lizzie thought they would head to a safe house somewhere close to DC. After all, this is where Dembe was taken. When she noticed him take a circuitous route to the interstate heading north she was surprised.

"Where are we going?" she asked him.

"New York City. I have a number of friends and associates in the city that can help us. Our first stop will be a small theater owned by a friend. We'll be able to use it for as long as we like," he answered without taking his eyes from the road.

She didn't say anything. She just shook her head. It never ceased to amaze her how many different people he knew and were willing to help a wanted criminal. His easy charm made almost everyone forget just how dangerous he could be. She realized that she was well on the way to being considered the more dangerous of the two of them.

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Listening to Raymond Reddington perform a scene from an obscure play had to be one of the most bizarre things she's ever done. She felt a bit like Alice after she'd fallen down the rabbit hole. Her life was becoming a series of outrageous, dangerous scenes just like this one.

"You're a terrible actor," she told him when he forgot the next line.

"I'm a good actor. The play's just so depressing," he answered her a little stung at her response to his performance.

She shook her head at his explanation of how he'd come to fund the play originally. Typical Reddington. Funding something because it went against what the masses seemed to enjoy. But, in this case since it bought the loyalty of the owner of this very small off-Broadway theater, she couldn't really complain. The owner had even erected a small apartment set on the stage for them to use. Unfortunately, she didn't realize that there would be two of them and only put in a single bedroom. It wouldn't be the first time they'd shared a bed recently. But, Red had become a bit distant since Aram's mention of Tom's offer to help the taskforce. Then when he'd demanded that she promise not to contact him she'd said that she wouldn't call him. If was apparent he didn't believe her, even if he didn't say so to her face. She knew she'd made a mistake as soon as she said it. Now she didn't know how to take it back.

Red sat silently on the other side of the stage wall. When he'd first seen the setup onstage he thought it would be enough privacy. Now he realized just how little privacy the barrier really provided.

He knew when she promised not to call Tom that it had been pure reflex on her part. Until Tom finally did something else to show her his true colors she would hold tight to the memory of the time she was happy with him. He would just have to be prepared for the fallout from the FBI tracing her call to the man he was sure they were using as bait. Despite Aram saying that Ressler turned down his offer to help. He decided there was nothing else he could do until either the Djinn or Caul reached out to them. He might as well try to get some rest while he had a chance.

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The next morning found them in a park along the waterfront waiting for the Djinn to call with further instructions. Red sat on a bench away from where Lizzie paced. He'd recruited Baz to assist with keeping an eye out for trouble and help keep track of Lizzie. It was a good idea, but the Djinn still managed to get Lizzie away before they could stop him. All he could do was watch the little dot on the tablet's screen that represented the tracker he'd placed on her before they left the theater that morning. They followed the dot as best they could. It appeared to be heading outside of the city after pausing for a short time at a large apartment building. They decided to head back to the theater to see if she returned. Red told Baz to follow the tracker out of the city. He was to contact Red as soon as he had an address.

Red walked in the stage door and thought he heard Lizzie's voice talking to someone. He slowly approached the stage with his gun drawn.

"Lizzie," he called as he neared the false wall that separated him from where he'd heard her speaking.

When she didn't respond and he started hearing noises instead, he stepped around the wall to see her flipping through the costumes hanging on the rolling rack at the side of the stage. She had to have heard him, why hadn't she responded. Without moving his gaze off of her as he holstered his gun he noticed the cell phone lying on the couch cushion. So she had been talking to someone and didn't want him to know. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she's already reached out to Tom.

"What happened?" he asked her quietly.

She told him that the Djinn hadn't bought their story. She had asked her what her true fantasy was instead. She assured him that she hadn't said anything and instead managed to plant the tracker on her shoe.

"What is your true fantasy?"

He didn't know why he asked her. He knew her answer wouldn't be the one he hoped to hear. He'd shared how he truly felt about her that night on the ship. She hasn't said anything about how she might feel about him. She had seemed a bit happier. She was smiling more and had instigated physical contact with him, when in the past if had always been him reaching out to her. Now just the mention of that damn man's name and she was ready to contact him, her safety be damned.

"It's the same one I've always had for as long as I can remember. It's me and my husband walking in a park with our daughter between us. I would hold on and never let go."

He didn't know whether she understood what her describing that specific fantasy did to him. He'd had exactly that before saving a little girl from a fire and making sure she'd never remember killing her own father. He couldn't feel any worse at this moment if she took out a knife and stabbed him in the heart.

Before he either started crying in front of her or stalked out, his phone rang. Someone must be looking out for him with the perfect timing of this call.

"Yes," he said before listening to Baz give him the address for Djinn's location. "We have an address for the Djinn," he told her after flipping his phone closed.

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As soon as he saw the house he knew this woman wasn't the Djinn. With as much money as the Djinn charged to make fantasies come true, he/she would have spent some of it on a much bigger and nicer house.

It only took him a short time to convince Alice that she could not only be the face of the Djinn, but the power behind the face. With a promise to put the real Djinn behind bars and provide her with the necessary capital for her to use until she started getting paid for fulfilling the next person's fantasy. A hopefully more pleasant fantasy than what the current Djinn provided.

Now armed with the true Djinn's address Red sent Alice off with Baz to obtain a helicopter to assure that they could escape should something go wrong.

Once again Lizzie's need to save someone nearly ended with their capture. This was exactly why Red had sent Baz to find the helicopter. He'd actually been more concerned that she would shoot someone again, but either way they ended up surrounded by the police and FBI. As the two women hurried down the stairs leading to the yard behind the house he flipped through the book he'd promised Nasim would buy her a seat on the helicopter. By the time he'd caught up with them as they ran towards the landing chopper he'd already ripped out the page listing the Cabal member's deepest fantasies.

Lizzie pulling her gun and didn't let Nasim on the chopper. Her not letting Nasim board was not something they'd discussed. He couldn't find it in himself to disagree with her action. He'd shrugged at the woman as she protested that she'd done as they'd agreed and given him the book.

"I didn't agree," Lizzie spat at the woman.

Red looked across the lawn to where Donald was running towards them. He waved the book in his direction before he tossed to down to the ground near Nasim's feet as she was placed under arrest. With the book the FBI would have no trouble prosecuting a number of people for a long list of crimes.

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Red and Lizzie found themselves back at the theater where the pipe smoking theater owner, Gerta met them. She had a rough gravelly voice, but was pleasant enough to her. Lizzie had to excuse herself when it became apparent that there was some history between her and Red. Was there no woman in Red's past that he hadn't charmed or had sex with?

After she left Red and Gerta retreated to the seats normally occupied by a paying audience. There they shared a bottle of vodka and he entertained her with another one of his outrageous stories. He was just preparing to pour them another shot when Caul showed up near the stage. He didn't look happy.

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Caul lead him to a small dirty building on the outskirts of Baltimore.

"The building was empty when I got here," Caul told him.

Red gave him a slight nod in response to this news. He looked around the small dirty room. He saw drops of blood on the floor in numerous places. He also saw blood sprayed on the wall in a way that made Red think of arterial spray. He knew Dembe had been here. He could only hope the blood sprayed all over the walls belonged to one of the men that would have been guarding him. His brother was a resourceful, patient, deadly man when pushed too far.

"He was here," was all Red said to Caul before he left the room.

He remained silent until they were in the car once again. Caul was behind the wheel and was soon driving them back to the theater. It was time to find another place for them to stay. It was the only habit that Red had, he never stayed in the same pace more than two nights in a row. This almost constant movement had kept him free for almost twenty-five years.

"Do whatever you need to do to track Dembe down. I also want you to look into Mr. Vargas. He's been unreachable for the past few days. I find his disappearance at almost the same time as Dembe suspicious," he told Caul managing to keep the fear he felt for Dembe out of his voice.

"I'll start working on it right away. Are you still going to be at the theater?" Caul asked him.

"Call me with anything you find out. I'm not sure where we'll be, but I'm always available by phone."

After Caul drove off Red once again entered the theater by way of the stage door. He pulled out his phone to call Baz to bring a car around to the alley near the stage door. He walked on to the stage fully expecting it to be empty. He was surprised to see Lizzie sitting on the couch reading.

"We need to get ready to move on to our next safe house," he told her.

"I'm ready now. It's not like I have a lot of things to take with me," was her immediate answer.

"Are you still coming with me?" he asked with a tired resigned look on his face. He expected her to tell him that she was going back to Tom or Jacob or whatever his real name.

"Of course I'm coming with you! Why do you think I wouldn't continue on with you? Are you tired of me already?" she asked the last question without intending to do so, it just slipped out.

He walked over and took a seat on the couch with a tired sigh. She turned a little in her seat so she could look at him.

"I know you called Tom. I knew when I asked for your promise that you wouldn't be able to keep it. Despite everything I'm doing to keep you safe you went ahead and compromised all of it to hear his voice again," Red said refusing to look in her direction.

So this was what had caused him to be so quiet after she'd shared her fantasy with him. She needed to be very careful in how she handled this with him. If he thought that she'd pick Tom over the security that he provided, just showed again how damaged he was when it came to her.

"Yes, I called Tom. I called from a payphone ten blocks away from here. The call didn't last long enough for it to be traced. I called him to tell him to get back on his boat and leave like he'd told me he would," she told him trying to make him understand that her fantasy didn't have Tom in it. She wasn't sure yet what man was in her fantasy, but lately she'd seen the man wearing a hat that looked a lot like the ones that Red wore.

"Did he agree to leave?" he asked nearly holding his breath.

She wanted to lie and say that he'd agreed to leave. But, it was time that she started treating him with all the same respect he showed her. The first step was honesty. She'd give him the truth even if he found it painful.

"No. He didn't even listen to a word I said. He just kept saying that he loved me and was here to save me . . . I don't need him to save me. You've already saved me more times than I can count. He isn't here to help me. He wants to be a hero and lead the police to capture the dangerous criminals. I know what he really is and I could never go back to him. Who would lead you home if I'm not here?" she asked with a tremulous smile.

Red returned her smile with a sad one of his own. He wanted to believe her, but in his heart he believed this was just another lie.

"Alright then, let's get moving before someone tumbles to our being here. Baz should be waiting for us outside."

She leads the way to the stage door. True to his word Baz sat waiting in a black Mercedes. They took their seats in the back seat where the many cameras that blanketed the city wouldn't be able to see them.

"Where are we going now?" she asked.

"To Baltimore. Leonard was able to locate the building where they'd been holding Dembe. It was empty by the time he got there. The only thing left was blood on the ground. I think it's possible that Dembe managed to get away. I've got a score to settle with this Mr. Solomon. He and the rest of the Cabal are going to be very sorry that they've kidnapped and tortured him," he told her with anger blazing in his eyes.

"You lead the way. I'll be behind you 100%. I know what Dembe means to you. We'll find him," she told him trying to be as comforting as she could.

He gave her another heartbreaking smile. He appreciated her words of support, but knew only too well what might have been done to Dembe. He'd read the file that Caul had compiled on Solomon. He'd been right when he'd described him as sadistic. The things he'd done to some of his prisoners in Afghanistan made even Red's blood run cold. The man truly had an evil mind and definitely no scruples to hold him back.

"I know we'll find him, but will he still be alive?"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See chapter 1 for disclaimer. I'm too tired to write another one.

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to get this written. I've been busy with RL and had a lack of inspiration to continue this story. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be published.

Lizzie was so tired of being forced to stay inside the theater. Red was constantly warning her how dangerous it would be for her to show her face outside. He told her this again this morning, just before waltzing out the door with his ever present duffle bag.

She managed to get him to pause long enough to explain why he was suddenly frantic for them to leave their current hideout.

"Wait Red what's wrong?" she asked him from the couch where she sat watching the whirlwind named Red grab not only his bag but hers as well.

"We have to go," was his terse reply.

"The task force?" she guessed.

"Worse."

Okay, she was getting tired of his short answers. She had to admit there were times when his propensities for answering questions with stories annoyed her too, but she could usually pick out the portions that pertained to the question. That was preferable to this nearly uncommunicative answer.

"What do you mean worse?" she demanded forcefully.

"Wedigo. The mythical assassin. I've received information pointing to his being hired to kill you. My team will be here soon to get you to the jet. You'll be flown out of the country. I'll join you there when I can. You'll be fine Lizzie," he told her as he moved towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To get some help. Be ready to go as soon as I call you," he said before slipping out the door.

She sat looking at the bag he'd placed at the opposite end of the couch. Again, it was too dangerous for her out on the streets of New York City, but not for Red who'd been on the Most Wanted List for twenty-five years. That was a lifetime when compared to her mere five weeks. He was still wearing his damn fedora for God's sake! She was surprised Ressler didn't have the entire task force reviewing video feeds looking at all the men in fedoras. Her hoody at least blends into the background.

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Red stood in the shadows watching Ressler going through the motions of what was expected of an addict attending a help group meeting. He could tell by Ressler's body language that he was anxious for the meeting to end. Red suspected that Ressler thought the whole process was a colossal waste of time.

Red briefly considered waiting for Donald at his apartment as they'd done for Aram. He rejected that plan afraid that Ressler might not come home in time to set the task force on the trail of Wendigo.

The room quickly emptied as soon as the meeting ended. Ressler the perpetual boy scout stayed behind to straighten up the room. When he finally moved to the door in front of Red's hiding place Red made his move.

"Clasp your hands in front of you," Red told him pushing his gun into Ressler's back. He waited for Ressler to follow his order before patting him down and moving them both deeper into the shadows. He couldn't help but share his own experience with Ressler.

'Was there anything he didn't have experience in?' Ressler thought to himself.

"Why are you here?" Ressler asked him, careful to keep his hands in front of him.

"I need your help. A hit has been ordered on Elizabeth and Wendigo is going to kill her unless you help protect her by finding him first," Red said facing Ressler head on.

"I thought protecting her was your job?" Ressler couldn't help but take a jab at Red's protection skills. "He won't be able to find her. We haven't been able to find her and we've been looking for her for over five weeks."

"He's better than you. He's better than me I'm sorry to say. If you want to keep her alive you need to find him," he stressed before calmly backing out of the door. He swiftly moved around the corner to where he'd left the car. He fully expected Ressler to make some move to prevent him from leaving, but he couldn't see any trace of him.

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Red started the drive back to New York City and Lizzie when he received notification that the team assigned to get Lizzie to the plane had arrived at the theater.

"Lizzie my team is there. You need to leave with them now," he said as soon as she answered the phone.

She didn't hang up as they moved towards their SUV.

"How did things go with Ressler," she asked him anxiously.

"Fine. I gave him the name and I'm sure they are searching for him as we speak," he stopped speaking as the sound of a shot came across the line, followed almost immediately by a scream from Lizzie.

"Lizzie . . . Lizzie, what's going on?"

"Someone's shooting at us," came her breathless reply.

Red heard one of the guards telling her to move to the car on the count of three.

"What? No!" was all he heard before the sound of another shot caused her to gasp breathlessly.

All he could do was call for her, trying to get her to tell him what was happening. No matter how loud his call she didn't respond. He pulled off at the nearest exit. He couldn't concentrate on his driving as the sound of more shots rang through the phone. He couldn't hear anything from Lizzie. When minutes passed without any more shots being heard he pulled back onto the highway.

He sped as fast as he dared towards the city. He had to know that Lizzie was okay. Acknowledging that he wouldn't be able to get there in time to be of any help, he placed a call to Aram and reported an attempt on her life. He knew that the task force was his only option.

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Lizzie abandoned the car she'd stolen far enough from the theater to get her out of the sniper's line of sight. She moved back towards the theater, keeping close to the buildings along the way. After picking a phone out of an unsuspecting passerby's pocket, she dialed Samar from her spot a couple of blocks away. She saw Samar and an FBI forensic team gathering evidence from the scene.

"Samar listen. I figured out the shots came from a hotel down the street. You need to get there and see if you can find anything," she said as she turned away from the sight of her former co-worker gathering evidence that could lead her to Lizzie's location.

Red had told Lizzie on their first day in the city that should they get separated they would rendezvous at the corner of 57th street and Broadway. The crowds of tourists should prevent them from being spotted. She tuned out Samar's request for her to turn herself in and take responsibility for what she'd done. That was funny coming from someone that had likely killed more unarmed men than the one that she'd done.

She was so happy to see the car parked at the rendezvous site. In the middle of the sniper attack she was afraid she'd never see Red again. Almost as soon as she slid into the passenger seat she launched herself across the car to wrap her arms around him.

Red was shocked to find himself in Lizzie's almost desperate grasp. In reflex he wrapped his own arms around her. He murmured reassurances in her ear as he patted her back soothingly. He held her until he felt her gasping breaths even out and her body relaxed against him. He wasn't sure how long it was, but he knew they needed to move in case someone had managed to track her to their location.

"I've got good news. Dembe's made contact," he told her as he unwrapped his arms from around her.

"Have you talked to him? Is he okay?"

Red pulled the car out into traffic before answering. They would be meeting Dembe across town in about an hour. He was looking forward to having him at his back once again.

"That's not the protocol. We're heading to meet him. But first, Aram gave us a lead on locating Wendigo."

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Lizzie wondered when she'd become so comfortable working on the other side of the law. She and Red broke into the home of the man that made the custom rifles for the sniper that nearly killed her this morning with one of them. She'd stood there silently when Red had pointed a loaded high powered rifle at the man's head. She'd believed without a doubt that he would have pulled the trigger if he hadn't give them the information they needed to locate the assassin.

For the second time that day Wendigo had fired a gun in her direction. If she hadn't dropped her lock pick he might have succeeded. After she watched Red kick in the door she ran after Wendigo and followed him up the fire escape to the roof.

"Take the stairs," she'd yelled to Red as she raced past him. Surprisingly he listened and ran in the opposite direction.

She struggled to catch up with the man's longer strides as he ran across the building's roof, trying all the access doors to find a way off the roof. When it became obvious that he wouldn't find an open door she watched in amazement as he tried to leap across the gap between this building and the next. Lizzie was afraid that he was going to make it across safely, until she saw him slam into the side of the building. He was hanging there by his fingertips when she noticed Red was there reaching down to help him.

"Grab my arm," he told him after reaching down and taking hold of one of his arms.

Wendigo swiftly shifted his grip from the edge of the building to Red's left arm. As soon as he did that he seemed to realize he was now totally and completely dependent on Red to keep from falling. Red stood there sweating while he supported Wendigo's dead weight.

"There will be more coming. I'm not the only one," Wendigo had the balls to sneer at Red.

"Who's coming? What's their names?" Red demanded.

Wendigo's only response was an evil chuckle. With a snarl Red flung the man toward the ground. He stared at her from the other rooftop. She didn't think she should be as turned on as she was by what just happened. But, damn the look he was giving her. It was like he wanted to jump her and take her right there.

They searched his apartment quickly before leaving. They didn't discover any clues to who might have hired him. They grabbed a laptop on their way out. Lizzie hoped it contained something to point them to the person that wanted her dead.

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Lizzie sat searching through the laptop on a bench in yet another park. She'd thought it odd how many meetings with Red had taken place in public parks. Now after weeks on the run with him she'd learned that they were safer out in the open here than they would have been having meetings in back alleys.

She searched through the history of the internet sites visited and sat with her mouth opened in shock when she felt Red's hand on her shoulder.

"Dembe's here," he told her not trying to hide his excitement.

Instead of Dembe the back door opened to show Mr. Vargas looking much the worse for wear.

"Where's Dembe?" Red asked confused as he peered behind Vargas. The only way Vargas would have known about the personal advertisement would be if Dembe told him about it.

They moved back to their bench while Vargas explained that Dembe was dead and that Vargas barely escaped with his own life. Lizzie felt horrible that her actions may have led to his death. Red's circle of trusted friends and associates just got smaller.

She showed Red what she discovered on the laptop. It showed the picture from her wanted poster along with a dollar amount that was growing larger even as they watched.

"You're not safe here. We need to get you out of the country," he said leading them to the car. He tossed a phone to Vargas. "Call Edward and have him get the plane ready."

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Damn, damn, damn! Red thought to himself. Vargas excelled at being the turncoat. He'd utilized his unique talents a number of times before. He just never believed he would be the one betrayed. The betrayal of him was bad enough, but he'd betrayed Lizzie and for that he would pay with his life. Whether it was quick and relatively painless would depend on what happened here.

Red hated being helpless. He didn't see any way to shoot their way out of the standoff they found themselves in as soon as they'd driven into the hangar. All he could do was buy them time by putting down their weapons.

"Put down your gun Elizabeth," he told her over his shoulder. After all their time together it didn't surprise him to find her guarding his back.

Lizzie heard Red's order, but that stubborn streak made her shift position and point it at Vargas instead. If nothing else, he wasn't walking out of here alive. She got a jolt of pleasure from seeing the look of fear that crossed his face when he saw the gun pointed at him.

"Put it down," Red repeated his order as he bent down and laid his own gun on the ground.

Lizzie didn't like the idea of giving up her weapon, but she'd calculated their odds against Solomon and his group. There was no way for them to take out their opposition before being killed. She placed her gun down at her feet and stood up glaring at the men across from her.

Solomon barked a quick order to his men and Red found his hands bound behind his back and Lizzie's were bound in front of her. He was then forced down into a chair one of the goons brought out to where they were standing. While he was being forced into the chair, Lizzie was being forced down on a short rolling table. She managed to give the man at her feet a bloody lip before he got her legs immobilized. As much as she struggled she couldn't get away from the two men holding her down. She was unafraid facing them on her feet with a gun in her hand. Being held down like this made her fear what they had in mind.

"Solomon call the Director. Tell him I'll give him all the information I've gathered on him. Just let her go!" Red tried to bargain with him desperately.

Red was terrified for almost the first time since he walked in his front door on Christmas Eve to find his home covered in blood. The sight of those men's hands on her made him see red. But, he needed to keep his rage under control if he expected to get them out of this alive.

Lizzie looked towards Red and saw two men forcing him down into a chair. She could tell by the sound of his voice as he tried to bargain with Solomon that he was afraid. She'd never heard or seen him afraid before, that made her even more afraid.

The threats that Solomon made washed over Red without sinking in. It was the sight of Solomon running a knife over Lizzie from her neck, down over her breasts and stomach to her thighs that caused him to react. With an animalistic growl he launched himself off the chair. He dragged the two men holding him across the open space separating him from her. They barely managed to stop him from reaching her.

A loud noise rang through the hangar. Then one of the hangar doors began to roll up. Through the newly opened door came a golf cart heading straight towards them. Red realized this might be his only chance to get them away from Solomon. Before he could do anything to the guards holding him back he heard shots. Two of the perimeter guards hit the floor dead. He glanced towards the source of the shots and saw Dembe striding in shooting with both hands.

Red stomped down on the foot of the guard on his right before twisting away from their slackened hold on him. He rushed over to the table where Lizzie lay on her right side. He placed his body between the gunfire and her. The shots ended with a ringing silence.

Dembe rushed to where Red was leaning over Lizzie. He sliced through the zip tie that bound Red's hands behind him. After Red helped her sit up he sliced her bonds as well. Without a word to either of them Red turned around and walked towards where Vargas sat wounded against the Mercedes's front wheel. When Red found out that Vargas was the one that wounded Dembe he thought it was poetic justice that Dembe wounded him in turn. But, at that moment he was only interested in making him pay for betraying them to Solomon.

Without a word to Vargas Red put a bullet in his heart with a gun he'd picked up from the arsenal that lay scattered across the floor of the hangar.

"Solomon, where did he go?" he asked Lizzie as she climbed down from the table.

"I don't know. He's gone," she told him.

After Red made sure she was okay he turned to Dembe and wrapped his arms around his dearest friend. As he placed a kiss on Dembe's cheek he started to collapse to the floor. He just managed to ease the bigger man down. He reached into Dembe's pocket and removed his phone.

"Call Kaplan," Red ordered her as he worked to make Dembe comfortable on the cold concrete floor. He rapidly found the reason for Dembe's collapse. There was an entrance and exit wound in his abdomen. He was lucky that it hadn't gone deeper before exiting the other side. It bled a lot but it wasn't too serious. With a little rest and TLC Dembe would be back on his feet in no time.

One of the many things Lizzie learned about Red's organization in the past few weeks was the quickest way to contact Mr. Kaplan. She remembered the round about way she'd had to go thru to reach her the first time. Of course, she'd thought she was calling a man then too.

Kaplan told her that she'd have an ambulance and paramedics there within minutes. She would be about ten minutes behind them.

'How is Dembe?" Kaplan asked her worriedly.

"He seems to be okay. He looks exhausted, but Red said he isn't dying," Lizzie reassured her.

It seemed it was only moments after she'd hung up with Kaplan when an ambulance pulled in through the open hangar doors. Within minutes Dembe was on the gurney with an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth.

"Dembe . . . Dembe," Red said leaning over his face. When Dembe managed to open his eyes in response to his name being spoken by his dearest friend. "We are going to get you well."

Red then leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead.

Seeing Red with Dembe made Lizzie realize how he must have been with his daughter. He treated those he cared about with the utmost tenderness. As dangerous as he was to his enemies, he was that loving with those in his innermost circle. Vargas's betrayal would need to be processed. He would try to determine if there was a sign that he'd missed.

After Dembe was taken away to a safe house. Red called Aram to make sure her name was off the internet site that had the bounty on her head. They were dismayed to hear that the only way to get her name off the site was her death.

"Then let's do that," Red said shocking everyone.

"What?" she heard Aram exclaim on the other end of the phone. That was exactly her response as well.

"Aram this is what I need you to do. Get the prisoner to enter Lizzie's death on the site. I'll arrange for pictures of her supposedly dead body to get to the press. That should be the confirmation needed for them to pay the bounty and then remove her name. You should have confirmation within thirty minutes," with that he hung up.

"You have twenty minutes to document the scene and clean it up," he told Kaplan as soon as she exited her classic Mercedes.

"That's not enough time," was her response.

"Make it work," Red said refusing to back down.

Mere minutes late Lizzie found herself lying next to a pool of blood. She had to force herself to lie still and do her best to appear dead while taking the place of the real dead body that was there only seconds ago. Kaplan posed her before taking a few pictures from different angles. Viewing the pictures afterwards she had to admit she looked dead. The sight made her shudder. No one should ever see their own dead body. It didn't matter that she wasn't dead. She'd seen what it would or could look like.

Kaplan sent the pictures off to Red's contact with the local newspaper. She was assured they would be published on the paper's website immediately and in the paper the next morning. Kaplan then set off to start cleaning the site. Her team would be there soon to clear the bodies away while she remained to clean away all the blood and stray bullet holes.

"Lizzie get in the car. We'll head over to the safe house to check up on Dembe," he said to her as he moved Vargas's body away from the front tire none to gently. "Kate call me if anything unexpected comes up."

Kaplan waved a hand in acknowledgement. She was much too busy to do anything more. She barely noticed when they pulled out of the hangar.

"Call Barakov and see if he's managed to track down an address for the payment confirmation," he told her as he drove a round about way to the safe house. This was one of the first things he taught her about being wanted. You never wanted to lead the police to where they stayed. Always take a different route and keep an eye out for a tail.

"He's number nine on the speed dial, right?" she asked him. She'd been strangely happy to find out that she was number one.

"Yes, if he's managed to get an address have him text it to you. We'll head over there immediately. I don't want to lose him."

The call was quick. Red's second favorite hacker had managed to locate the address and surprisingly it was in a quiet little neighborhood near DC.

Red placed a call to the safe house to make sure Dembe was being cared for and told the nurse that answered to call him immediately if Dembe took a turn for the worse. He also told her to tell Dembe that he and Lizzie would be there soon.

"How do you want to handle this when we get to the location? Do we knock on the door or find a way in on our own?" she asked him.

"Lets try this the easy way. We'll knock on the door and invite ourselves in when they open it," he answered without any sign of his normal arrogance.

Lizzie could tell that today's events had shaken him. It would be a long time before she forgot the look on his face when Solomon was threatening her with the knife. The sound of his voice as he desperately bargained with the madman and then threatened him. The animalistic growls that were torn from his throat as he fought to free himself and get to her side. If she ever doubted his feelings for her, she only needed to remember today for reassurance.

When they reached the address they did exactly what he said they would. Once inside they were surprised to discover the identity of the person who'd put Lizzie's name on the site. They both expected some man or woman associated with the Cabal. The last thing they expected was that their target was an angry teenage girl whose mother had died in the bombing of the OREA building. Lizzie was able to convince the girl that she didn't bomb the building and was working to bring the people responsible to justice. The girl agreed to remove her name and did just that as they waited.

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On their way to Dembe's location Red's phone started to ring. Since Lizzie still had his phone she answered hoping it wasn't bad news about Dembe.

"Hello."

"Liz it's Aram," he said in a near whisper. He'd moved to a deserted corner of the building, but he still didn't want anyone to accidently overhear their conversation. "Your name disappeared from the website. I wanted to make sure you're okay."

"We're fine Aram. We convinced Blair to remove me," she reassured him.

"Tell Aram to lose this number. If anyone else at the FBI gets a hold of it I'll come looking for his head," Red said loud enough for Aram to hear.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N This story will be ending after the Director Part 2 episode. Thanks to work and other RL issues I can't write as fast as the episodes are airing. I'm very disappointed that TPTB have decided to bring Megan's RL pregnancy into the show. This show isn't one that will work with a baby in the mix. Do they plan on making Mr. Kaplan into the baby's nanny? Tom has no place in the show and should either be killed off or turned into a true bad guy. This whole redemption arc of Tom's is killing the show and my interest.

Disclaimer: see previous chapters.

Red and Lizzie managed to remain out of sight at the safe house Red procured for Dembe's treatment. Red spent a great portion of the time Dembe was asleep reading a stack of classic novels out loud to him. She suspected that Red had done this more than once for his dear friend. It's another hidden aspect of his personality that he was allowing her to see.

When he was away from Dembe he spent hours on the phone. He was searching for a close associate of the Director's by the name of Andras Halmi. All of his people were running down leads as to his location. All he had told her about Halmi was that he was key to getting something that belonged to Kotsiopulos.

They were scheduled to fly to Canada in two days to break into a safe deposit box belonging to Kotsiopulos. There was a team there already working on gaining access to the vault. To gain access to the box the means of fooling the biometric lock was required. They needed Halmi's thumbs or thumb prints to open it. Two days was all the time they had to locate Halmi.

The day before they were to leave one of Red's operatives confirmed that Halmi was one of the scientists that disappeared recently. An old eccentric man, Crispin Crandall, was identified as the one that was gathering up all the great minds around the globe. He has them kidnapped, but no ransom demand is made, no bodies are found. It's a mystery what Crandall was doing with them.

The next day Red gave the FBI Crispin Crandall as the next name on the Blacklist. Between the FBI and Red's team they should be able to find where Crandall's plane was currently flying.

As Red predicted the plane was found and with some cooperation they managed to force the plan to land to refuel. They left the plane with thumbs on ice and a new customer for Crandall's cryogenic business, Mr. Crispin himself.

Once they escaped the plane Red's plan was completed without a hitch. He sent Marvin back to the island paradise he and his girlfriend were hiding safely in plain sight.

Liz woke up to the sound of red talking. Since she could only hear him she decided he must be on the phone. She didn't plan on eavesdropping on his call, but she couldn't help it. When she figured out that he was talking, no threatening, the Director with the contents from the safe deposit box. She wasn't sure what she wanted to happen to the man more, his death or him under arrest.

"Where are we headed to now?" asked Lizzie from where she was slowly sitting up on the couch.

"Did you have a nice nap? And, in answer to your question, we are heading to Baltimore. We need to locate an Iranian by the name of Zal Bin Hassan. In order for me to meet with the Venezuelan Foreign Minister I need to capture Hassan and turn him over the Mr. Diaz's assistant. I don't know why they want him so badly. I'm sure the world won't mourn the loss of another terrorist," explained Red.

"Will you ever tell me why we need the Venezuelan's help?" she asked again. She's asked this same question a number of time. He either ignored the question completely or launched into one of his surprisingly interesting stories.

"You'll find out soon Lizzie. Just be patient and observe everything that occurs around you. I'm sure you'll be able to figure out their usefulness," he told her with a twinkle in his eye.

One thing that surprised Lizzie was Red's willingness and ability to continue to using the task force to help track down his targets. He fed them the information of who was behind the kidnapping of a group of scientists. She made a quick call to Samar to tell her that the man she'd been hunting for years was at the hart of the kidnapping. That information had her on Red's side, willing to do anything to capture the man responsible for the death of her cherished brother.

As so often happened, what should have been a well executed operation to free the scientists went all to hell. The surprise of finding her brother alive, a prisoner, of Zal bi Hassan the man she'd thought responsible for his death, was nothing to her surprise at hearing the other former prisoner's calling Ali by the name of Zal Bin Hassan.

Red's phone rang as he and Lizzie were trying to work on finding bin Hassan from another angle.

"I'm sorry Agent Navabi. It appears my intel is lagging behind. I had no idea Ali was still alive when I brought this case to you. I would have told you if I'd know he was Hassan," Red said to her, not trying to hide how badly he felt.

Listening to only Red's side of the conversation Lizzie was confused by the mention of Ali being Hassan. According to all of Red's intel and what she'd seen in the FBI files when she'd still had access showed that Samar's brother was dead. He was supposedly killed in a bombing in Iran years ago.

Growing up as an only child prevented her from knowing the bonds that only siblings could know and understand. The bonds of love and friendship that was always there. She could only imagine the seesaw of emotions that Samar must be felling right now. The joy of finding out her dear brother was still alive to the confusion and sorrow when it was revealed that he was the hunted terrorist.

Red tried to contact Samar again to find out her situation, but his calls went unanswered. He spent precious minutes contacting many of his varied intel sources, trying to find if Hassan had reached out to anyone for assistance. After nearly thirty minutes he found out that Hassan had arranged for a small boat to be waiting for him in a semi-deserted spot in the Baltimore harbor. He called in his most trusted men and quickly setup a trap to ensnare Hassan and his men before they could board the boat. He was relieved to hear from his lookout at the entrance to the pier that Samar was with them, but obviously as their prisoner.

Hassan and his two men were no match for Red's men. Within minutes Samar was freed and Hassan their prisoner. Listening to Hassan try and play on Samar's love for her brother sickened him. He quietly offered Samar a choice of fates that could await Hassan. The choice between Hassan being put in a deep dark hole that Homeland Security or the FBI would drop him into to be tortured for any intel he might have before letting him waste away in a cell or be executed. Her other choice was to give him to Red to use in his plan to clear Lizzie's name.

"Take him," was her anguished answer to Red. She turned and left without a backwards glance. Ali was truly dead to her this time.

Red had Baz bundle Hassan into the trunk of a non-descript sedan. Baz followed Red in his normal Mercedes to meet with Mr. Diaz's assistant, where Red made a present of Hassan to pay for his crimes against the citizens of Venezuela. If Red were to hazard a guess, Hassan's fate was doomed to be the same whether he'd been arrested by the United States or Venezuela.

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All the pieces for Red's plan almost in place. While he kept Lizzie on the move Dembe was sent to pick up a briefcase that Red had kept hidden for nearly two years. When he had let Lizzie on to his plan now that everything had come together. The only item left other than the briefcase was how to get the Director in a position where he had minimal or no protection. There was around the clock surveillance on the Director and his wife.

Liz had been surprised by Red's plan. She understood how the different strikes against the Cabal's interests caused them difficulty. What she didn't understand was how long Red has been formulating his plan against the Cabal and how her becoming a fugitive had caused him to focus almost entirely on the head of the Cabal. Even though Red never said it, she was sure she'd crippled plans years in the making.

When Red told Lizzie about what he was sending Dembe to retrieve she'd been shocked with herself. How could she have forgotten that Red had never surrendered the Treasury plates and the software for creating the new one hundred dollar bills. Exactly how did he keep himself from being thrown into some deep dark hole until he'd surrendered them she didn't know. She realized that Red had some evidence of wrong-doing by Cooper, or he did, and that is what kept Cooper from arresting him then.

Even the best laid plans can be disrupted by an unforeseen happenstance. The tactical genius of Raymond Reddington, number one on the FBI's Ten Most Wanted list was tripped up by the modern day version of the James Gang.

Liz had to admit, if only to herself, she'd panicked when she exited the gas station's bathroom to find no trace of Red or their Jeep. She'd called ad texted his phone frantically. She was worried that the police had managed to capture him. That thought was quickly followed by fear for herself. How would she survive without Red's help? She finally broke down and reached out to Samar for help tracking Red's burner number. Samar had seemed a little strange, but she'd provided her the location.

She was grateful that most of the people she passed didn't seem to recognize her. The blessing of living in the country. She was sure everyone in this small town never expected to see the Concierge of Crime and the murderer of the U.S. Attorney General walking their streets.

The location that she'd gotten from Samar was spot on. She found Red's phone on the floor of the Jeep which had been been towed to a junkyard at the edge of town. Apparently the guy that delivered the car to the junkyard had given the owner an elaborate story explaining how and why it was left there. Liz managed to get the name of the driver that brought it in and the most likely place to find him.

Red woke up from his unwanted nap to find himself handcuffed and at the mercy of a group of small time swindlers. Despite a splitting headache he'd managed to turn them against their fellow kidnapper and thieves. It was after his attempted escape that they learned who they really had restrained in their disgusting RV.

While Red worked on trying to talk his way out what was rapidly becoming a very dangerous spot, Lizzie managed to find the driver and seduce him. After they reached his apartment he received a phone call that changed her plans. He obviously knew who she was after the call ended. It was only her FBI self defense skills and daily lessons with Red that allowed her to come out on top of the fight with the driver.

Using her captive's phone Lizzie called Cash and negotiated a trade. For two million dollars the highway men will let Red go. That is pocket change for Red. Unfortunately, the only way they could get that much would be with Red's assistance. Or, they can give the care package to them and hope they truly understand the package contained.

She'd met with Dembe outside of the bookstore where the care package was to be delivered. He'd glanced in the backseat where she'd forced Jasper to lay down under a blanket. As was his way he simply looked to her for an explanation. She wondered if he was ever thrown by anything he saw in Red's employ.

"I've arranged an exchange to get Red back. We give him back," she said gesturing to the man in the back, "But, we have to give them the care package."

"No, Raymond would not want that. We need it to clear your name," protested Dembe.

"It's the only way to get him back. We'll have to find another way to clear my name," she said before driving off to Red back.

After hearing for years that Ressler never came close to capturing Red the sight of the police and the taskforce surrounding the meeting place was a surprise. As Dembe held off as many of them as possible Lizzie ran off through the surrounding woods as fast as she could. Ressler with his longer legs soon tackled her from behind. She fought to get away until she saw Ressler's gun pointed at her face.

"You wouldn't," she said breathlessly.

"I would. You know I would," Ressler answered her without lowering his weapon. He pinned her down while he fastened handcuffs around her wrists. The only concession to their former partnership was that he fastened them in front of her.

Ressler arranged for Lizzie and Dembe to be held at a local jail until he could arrange for secure transport back to D.C. and the Post office. With Reven Wright's assistance they'd setup protocols to make sure Lizzie arrived in court safely. It took a few hours to get Ressler's hand picked team out to where the chase had come to an end. With Liz and Dembe in his custody he wondered where Red was at. He suspected that Red wasn't far away, but he couldn't worry about that at the moment.

As soon as Ressler's team arrived they placed a bulletproof vest on Lizzie before placing hand and leg restraints on her. The then loaded her into an armored SUV. She managed to keep her emotions off her face as she walked to the SUV. The sight of all the officers turning their backs on her hurt more than she'd ever thought it would. If only they knew what was really going on in this country. Of course, they'd never believe it possible for a group like the Cabal to exist.

They'd been on the road back to D.C. for nearly thirty minutes before Ressler turned to her and tried to say something reassuring.

"You'll get a fair trial. There are protocols in place to keep you safe."

Lizzie knew he truly believed what he was saying, but she knew there was only one person that could keep her safe from the Cabal and that person was Red. She'd been certain the Kings of the Highway had released him. With Dembe in the SUV following hers she feared that Red was more vulnerable than he'd been in years.

Ressler's phone started to ring.

"Ressler"

"Where is she?" asked Red immediately.

"You don't have to worry about Keen's safety. I've taken measures," said Ressler before being interrupted.

"Your measures will fail. Mine won't," Red told him.

"So, now you are going to share your plan with me?" Ressler asked sarcastically. "Now that I've arrested your partner in crime. Face it Reddington I beat you."

"There are no beatings here Donald, no winners and losers. There is only Agent Keen's life. I have been working on a meticulous campaign to clear her name. I need a day to put one final piece into place."

"Go for it. You know where we'll be," was Ressler's cocky answer.

"I wish that was true. But, you're about to witness the full force of a shadow government working in concert to crush you. And, now that they know you have Elizabeth they will stop at nothing to steal her. You and Agents Navabi and Mojtibai must remain by her side and guard her with your lives until you hear from me again," said Red trying to make Ressler understand just how dangerous the men they were facing could be, but he feared the man's stubbornness wouldn't allow him to believe anything Red said.

"Thanks to Navabi is no longer a e member of this task force," answered Ressler.

"Then it's all on you Donald. Keep them away from Agent Keen. And Donald, I assume you have Dembe and are being hospitable," said Red putting Donald on notice that nothing should happen to either Lizzie or Dembe unless Donald wanted to pay the price for his negligence.

Of all the things Red was known for, the ability to put contingency plans in place was considered to be one of his biggest strengths. While he believed Donald sincerely thought he could keep Lizzie safe, Red knew only too well just how dangerous the Director could be when cornered. And, Red had him forced into a corner with almost no chance of escape. He made another call to the only person in a position to help Lizzie.

"Agent Mojtibai," Aram said into his phone.

"Have you heard about Agent Keen?" came Red's deep baritone.

"Mr. Reddington," Aram asked nervously.

"Listen to me Aram. The Cabal will come for her. If they reach her, it'll be the last time you ever see Elizabeth again. At this point, only one person can keep her alive . . . _you!"_

"Me? Um, okay, how?" asked Aram.

"I assume one of Ressler's protocols is to put her in the box. You need to change the password and delete the Director's prints from the database. They will do their best to get the new password from you. You can't give it to the Director unless it's the only way to keep her alive. Can you do that Aram?"

Aram may not have had all the training that a field agent received. But, he was loyal to his friends. He'd endure whatever was necessary to keep the Director from gaining access to the box.

Almost as soon as the door to box was locked behind Lizzie, the Director and Laurel Hitchens came striding towards the box.

"What are you doing here?" Ressler asked the Director, placing himself between the Director and the controls that would open the box.

"We've received actionable intel regarding an impending terrorist attack. We are taking custody of Ms. Keen so she can be interrogated further," the Director said with a smirk on his face.

Ressler stood there unmoving. He wouldn't believe how obvious this play was to get Lizzie. He expected something in subtler from him.

"There are protocols in place to make certain that Keen makes it to the courtroom. Until Reven Wright appears and orders me to open this box she is staying right here. I'm not opening this door for you," he said stubbornly.

The Director smiled. That was the last thing Ressler had expected.

Ressler left the Director and Lizzie staring at each other through the glass walls of the box. He found Aram alone at his station in the bullpen.

"Reven's not coming back," he told Aram quietly yet plainly agitated.

"You talked to her?" asked Aram.

"No, she's dead."

"How do you know" asked Aram anxiously.

"Tommy Markham," was Ressler's cryptic reply.

"Who? Who is Tommy Markham?" Aram asked with deepening confusion.

"He's the man that killed by father and she's the only one that new his name. I think she was trying to let us know that Laurel is a member of the Cabal, and I told her where Tom is holding Karakurt."

"Wait, Tom has Karakurt?" Aram asked what he felt was the most important question.

Ressler glanced around, making certain that their conversation was not attracting any unwanted attention.

"Tom managed to find Karakurt and took him to Cooper. They are now in a cabin where they can keep him safe until he's needed in court. I've tried to contact him, but he's not answering. I've talked to Cooper. Unfortunately, he's not at the cabin. Even if he turned around now I'm closer to the cabin from here. I'm going to the cabin to make sure the Cabal can't get their hands on him. I need you to make sure the Director can't open that door. The Marshals are supposed to be here in three hours. Don't turn her over to anyone but the Marshals. I'll do my best to be back by then," he said before rushing off to the elevator.

Aram watched Ressler rush off in dismay. He wasn't sure how he was going to keep all of the Director's men away from Lizzie, but he'd do everything in his power to keep her safe. He not only reset the box's password, he also made it impossible for anyone else to change it again.

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Red's plan to take the Director down was now accelerated due to Lizzie's arrest. With Dembe's arrest as well he was starting to feel like he was taking on Mike Tyson with one arm tied behind his back. He depended on Dembe more than he liked to admit. The man could make Red rethink his actions with little more than a look. Without Dembe he would need to depend on his wider inner circle of trusted associates.

He was waiting at a viewpoint overlooking the Atlantic when Samar approached him. He moved to an empty bench and motioned for her to join him.

"I understand that Ressler fired you for helping Elizabeth locate me. I'm sorry for that," he told her.

"I deserved to be fired."

"Are you still willing to help free Elizabeth?" he asked, but he was pretty sure what her answer would be.

"Of course. The Cabal needs to be taken down. I have to admit I never believed there was a group at the highest level of governments and global corporations causing so much war and strife across the world. But, unfortunately, you've opened my eyes. What do you need from me?" asked Samar.

Red hated causing the loss of faith in one's government. Everyone hoped the people charged with working to keep their people safe and prosperous were doing their best to do that exact thing. That was exactly his belief before his own eyes has been opened so dramatically in 1990. He knew exactly what Samar and the rest of the taskforce was going through.

"Nothing too dangerous. I need you to play the part of a loathsome paparazzi. I'm going to arrange a meeting with the top Venezuelan aide in order to facilitate a meeting with their President's top advisor. I'll need you to take photos of our meeting that can be used to make the Venezuelan people and President think that the aide is conducting business with me. If the aide refuses to arrange the meeting I will explain how a photographer friend of mine will make sure my suggestion/threat made to him to release those pictures will force him to arrange the meeting. It's always good to have blackmail material against people in high places."

By the time the day ended Red was able to enlist the help of the Venezuelan government, thanks to Samar's help with the pictures and the recovery of the care package from the FBI's hands. Much to Red's relief Aram had proven himself equal to the task of keeping Lizzie safe in the box. At least until not releasing her would have ended with her suffocating right in front of his face. He had managed to keep her out of Cabal hands until both Ressler and Mrs. Penabaker arrived in the bullpen. Penabaker called Hitchens and Kotsiopoulos out o the supposedly vital intel linking Lizzie to another impending terrorist attack. She refused to allow either one of them to take custody of Lizzie. She was only to be released to one Donald Ressler and a team of U.S. Marshals. Ressler's timing couldn't have been better.

When Aram received a text from an unknown number telling him to meet at an address Aram realized he could be walking into a trap, but he had a strange hunch that the sender was someone he knew. After a fast check of the address he hoped he was right about not being in danger.

Aram parked his bicycle on the road near where he saw a man that had to be Mr. Reddington standing. His legs didn't want to move, but he forced himself to move next to the open grave.

"Mr. Reddington why are we meeting here?" Aram was proud that he didn't sound as scared and nervous as he felt.

"There's nobody down there. Not at the moment," Red answered the unspoken question.

"So then . . . why did you ask me to meet you at an empty grave?"

Aram was beginning to think he might not be the graves future occupant. He's never seen Reddington acting the way he is right now.

"There are . . . foundational elements in our lives. People . . . that form the brick and mortar of who we are, people that are so deeply embedded that we take their existence for granted until suddenly, they're not there. And we . . . collapse into rubble. I've stood over the open grave of someone I've loved . . . too often. Once for my mother. And then . . . the others. I needed to recall this feeling because . . . I'd be staring at another body right now if not for you, Aram. It wasn't weakness that prevented you from watching your friend die today. It was hope, and thank heavens you were in a hopeful mood. You saved Elizabeth. I'm forever in your debt," said Red showing Aram a brief glance into the man behind the persona of the Concierge of Crime. "Now gather your team. It's time to take down the Cabal."

As Aram watched Red walk away into the shadows that blanketed the silent graveyard, he decided that he may not know what Red planned to free Elizabeth Keen, but he would do anything he asked him to do.

BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL

It didn't take long for Red to request their presence at an address for a meeting. Each of them arrived separately at the steel door of a building that was built at the rear of a meat packing plant.

Aram was the first to arrive. He knocked on the door wondering what he would find on the other side. What he didn't expect was to have one of the panels on the door slide open to show him a stern looking older woman.

"You're late," Kaplan snapped at Aram.

She slid the panel closed again before opening the door and motioned Aram to enter. He entered, not entirely sure it was the correct decision.

"You'll give up all electronics and weapons," he heard Kaplan say from behind him. He found that he was paying more attention to the man blocking his path. He gave him his gun which was tossed into a plastic bin on the table.

"Be careful with that," he told Baz as he handed him his cell phone. "I have a year before my next upgrade."

With a slight smirk Baz carelessly tossed the phone into a plastic bin and waved him passed him.

Next to arrive was Cooper, but when Kaplan opened the sliding panel all she saw was a man's shirt. She had to bend down in order to see his face. He handed over his phone and gun without comment. He joined Aram near the bar. They were both surprised to find a full bar at the rear of the meat packing plant, without any signs outside to give a hint that a bar even existed inside. Cooper suspected that if Keen had been here she wouldn't have blinked at what they saw. She undoubtedly saw a lot of things like this in her travels with Reddington over the past few weeks.

Soon enough the entire group was assembled. Besides Aram and Cooper, the rest of the group included Samar and Marvin. They all stood around awkwardly waiting for Red to arrive.

In what was only minutes after Marvin arrived, but felt like hours, Red finally strode through the door behind the bar followed by Dembe. He made it a point to pat Aram on the back with a smile before addressing the group.

"I'm sorry for the security protocols, but my better half insisted," he said with an indulgent grin toward Kaplan who nodded in acknowledgment.

"Just the fact that you are all here is a testament to the deep concern we all share for Elizabeth Keen's safety and well-being. The threat from forces within is proving to be more powerful and far-reaching than one could have ever imagined. I've asked you here because we have one chance to save Elizabeth. But, to do that we must work together. So . . . Oh, my God, this is why I'm a terrible bridge player. With anyone else, Steve Lyditt would have won the North American Pairs. We didn't even make it through Regionals. Sharing my hand with anyone goes against every instinct I have. But, such is life. Here we are. So, five weeks ago, I called the Metro PD to report a sighting of Raymond Reddington at the Del Rio diner. I created a hostage crisis so you would be so kind as to release my attorney Marvin Gerard from prison. That day, Marvin and I conceived a plan to exonerate Elizabeth Keen by targeting the Cabal, and in particular the Director. Since that day, everything we've done has been in service of that plan. The Verdiant case has resulted in catastrophic damage to the Cabal's finances. The client list we took from the Djinn gave us leverage with key players in the Cabal to further isolate and weaken the Director's influence. With Andras Halmi, or part of him, we cut a gaping hold in the Director's golden parachute, leaving him nothing to run with and causing even further distrust and divisions within the Cabal. But, the Zal bin Hassan case has opened a window of opportunity we must slip through with great haste. To save Elizabeth, we must execute a specific attack. One so impactful, it will force the Cabal to completely abandon the Director, and publicly exonerate Elizabeth Keen."

The group had listened silently as Red recapped everything he and Liz had done to get them to this point. If it hadn't been for some two-bit highway men, Red might have been able to complete his plan with them none the wiser.

"What the hell do you have in mind?" Cooper said when Red paused.

"See this is why I don't play well with partners. Don't fret Harold, I'm holding all the trumps. I'll be the declarer, you be dummy, and we'll win the hand. Anything else? Good. Let's begin."

"That's it, that's your plan?" Cooper asked after Red outlined his plan. "You want to abduct the Director of Clandestine Services?"

"Yes," answered Red.

Aram couldn't believe what he was hearing. If they attempted this and failed, they would all be in the same boat as Liz and Red.

"Okay, I really, really do not like that guy. And, I want to be a team player and all, but this sounds a little like . . ."

"Treason?" suggested Marvin. "That's because it is."

"Not to mention seditious conspiracy and felony kidnapping . . ." added Cooper.

Red simply rolled his eyes at the list of crimes being discussed. He long ago made peace with the fact you sometimes had to do bad things to accomplish goals that were ultimately the best for everyone.

"For which you all could spend the rest of your lives in prison," Marvin told them all.

"What are you going to do? Ransom him back to the Cabal?" asked Samar. "They won't exonerate Keen to get him back."

"Agreed. That's why I have something in mind that's infinitely more persuasive than ransom," answered Red.

"We've been monitoring the man around the clock. He and his wife are in martial therapy," Marvin told Samar.

"I'm actually a great proponent of martial therapy. Worked for me. Then again, I had sort of a thing for the therapist. Lovely voice," Red said to everyone's surprise.

"You were in therapy?" Aram asked surprised.

Red didn't answer him, but gave him a little grin. Aram really was like a puppy. He might just need to keep him around. He also seemed like a man who was loyal to his friends. There were not enough men like that in the world if you asked him.

"The Director's wife is a pill popper, downers mainly, to deal with panic attacks and anxiety. They see a psychiatrist every Wednesday morning, Dr. Oren Huffnagel."

"His wife meets him at the Middleton Building. A real creature of habit. She gets a latte every day at the same shop and then on Wednesdays she walks over for the appointment," Marvin chimed in.

"The Director takes a scaled down security team. Two agents. One of them stays in the lobby," added Red.

"Sounds great. Except tomorrow's not Wednesday," said Samar.

"Yes, which is why we'll need a ruse that prompts the Director to go see the good doctor tomorrow," said Red.

"And, what do we do with him once we have him?" asked Cooper.

The only answer Cooper received was a secretive smile from Red. It was apparent they were going to be trusted only so far. For once Cooper found he was fine with that.

The taskforce got a fast lesson in how Red worked. He is the ultimate juggler. He kept so many balls in the air at one time it amazed them that he could keep track of them all.

While Ressler guarded Lizzie so Red and the team could concentrate on recreating the marriage counselor's office. Aram couldn't believe how quickly Red's construction crew was finishing the doctor's outer office. Aram found out from one of the crew that only the reception area would be built out. As soon as they got the Director into the "treatment" room he'd be knocked out immediately.

Who would have thought that the success or failure of the entire op would hinge on a bowl of apples! If anyone ever asked Aram for his opinion, he thought Red would make a great profiler.

Cooper and Samar's part of the plan went off without a hitch. Mrs. Kotsiopoulos was helped by Cooper into a cab heading to the doctor's office. Within the hour the Director came rushing into the building. As per their usual habit, one of the bodyguards stayed in the lobby while the Director and the other guard rode the elevator alone to the 6th floor or just for today to the eighth floor. Aram had to confess that he was terrified that his bypass wouldn't work. If that had happened, he suspected that Mr. Reddington wouldn't care that just the night before he'd said he would always be in Aram's debt.

When the Director noticed that a statue below a mirror on the way to the doctor's office was replaced by a crystal bowl of red apples, everyone began to quietly panic. Everyone, but Red. The Director picked one up, apparently to see if they were real. When he realized they were he grabbed one for himself and one for his guard.

Mr. Kaplan greeted the Director and smoothly lead him into the inner office. Two steps into the room and the Director was shot up with Propofol. Two men in the uniform of the Coroner's office zipped him into a body bag. They almost made it away undetected, but the guard from the reception area ran out of the office just as the service elevator doors started to close. The guard started firing at them. Baz returned fire and kept him pinned down long enough to miss stopping the elevator. Somehow they reached their waiting vehicles and pulled into traffic before the two guards reached the street.

Aram returned to the Post Office to wait. This was the part of his job that he hated the most. The waiting for everyone to return safely back to the black site.

Elizabeth's hearing didn't last long. The judge allowed Ressler to stay in charge of her safety, that was a win. He also agreed to let her be moved to the army base until her trial started.

After one of the Marshals stationed in the courthouse attempted to kill her Ressler escorted her back to her holding cell. He told her that Laurel had called him just in time to warn him the hallways weren't safe. It confused them both since it would have been her plan for eliminating Elizabeth. The only thing they could think of was that Red's plan was working. It gave them some much needed hope.

The last piece of Operation Free Lizzie was up to Red and his ability to blackmail the entire Cabal and through them the U.S. Government. The Cabal could never allow the Director to be publicly tried for war crimes as Red was threatening to have happen via the Venezuelan government. They couldn't even let the President know there was a possibility that an American government official would be tried in front of the entire world.

Red didn't like the deal the Cabal was offering. It didn't clear Lizzie of all the charges against her, but he'd always known clearing her completely of Tom Connolly's murder would take a miracle. After hearing Marvin's take on the plea deal he agreed that the offer of involuntary manslaughter with only three years of probation, and no jail time was more than fair. Lizzie would never be an FBI agent again. He told Marvin to make the deal.

Marvin met with Ressler, Cooper, Lizzie and her attorney to present the plea deal. When she balked at the guilty plea to manslaughter and what it meant to her future with the FBI she balked. Ressler handed her his phone.

"Lizzie it's not everything we'd hoped for and I promise you I'll continue trying to force them to clear you completely. I told you when you shot the Attorney General you crossed over to my side of the tracks. Take the deal Lizzie," Red told her.

She handed the phone back to Ressler.

"Do you have a pen?"

BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL

Three hours later found Red sitting in Laurel's sitting room, after completing his part of their agreement. He'd dropped Peter off in Denmark, just in time for dinner. It wasn't as drawn out a death as he felt he deserved, but he was sure Peter had enough time before he died to regret causing pain to someone Red loved. Solomon would be next. The time just wasn't right yet.

"I wonder if this wasn't your plan all along. To get a seat at the table when we were at our weakest. What is it you really want Raymond?" asked Laurel as she handed Red a glass of scotch and sat down in a chair facing him.

He smiled at her before taking a sip from his glass. It never ceased to amaze him how predictable the members of the Cabal's inner circle always seemed. Their only thoughts were of their place and how to make sure they retained it. Then a close second was what war or famine they could cause to allow their select group to step in to stop it. Making billions along the way.

"I'm not looking for a seat at the table . . . yet. Just know that when I decide I'm ready to join your merry band, a seat will be given to me without question. For now, Elizabeth Keen will not be a target of your games ever again. If you fail to live up to this agreement, I will hunt down every member of your inner circle and I will eliminate them one by one after publicly exposing their crimes. Share our agreement with your associates. They will be held to it whether they agree to it or not," Red told her without any hint of his normal, if at times forced, good cheer.

She could tell he was deadly serious. This realization showed in her expression.

Red raised his glass to her in a toast before draining the scotch left in his glass. He set the glass on the table separating them. Red moved to the door after donning his coat and hat. He glanced back at Laurel before opening the door. She sat staring off into space. He slipped through the door with a triumphant smile on his face.

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Dembe drove them down to the county courthouse where Lizzie was still waiting for her release papers to be processed. Ressler had called him to let Red know about when she would be released. He wanted to know if Red would be meeting her there. Red could hear the exhaustion in Ressler's voice. He'd been up nearly forty-eight hours straight. The feeling of pride Red was feeling for Ressler right then surprised him. He knew that if Red had told him he wouldn't be there to pick Lizzie up, Ressler would have been there no matter how tired he was right then.

The street was empty when Dembe parked across the street from the courthouse. Dembe waited on the sidewalk looking towards where they expected Lizzie to make her appearance. Red stood next to the car's back door leaning against the car slightly. He couldn't wait to see her as a free woman once again.

It seemed to take forever to get her paperwork completed so she could get out of the cell. She didn't understand how Red managed days in the cells he was forced to endure when he first surrendered to the FBI. If they were all like the one she'd seen him in at the Washington facility, holding cells with barely room to walk between the small cot, toilet and sink. He'd been kept in that cell in the dark for the entire time. She knew the reasoning for keeping prisoners in the dark. She was just grateful that she'd not endured her imprisonment in that total darkness.

"Your paperwork is complete. Follow me," the deputy instructed her.

Lizzie realized that at least some of the people who thought she was guilty might believe the news conference that announced the fact that she'd been framed by the Cabal. There would be many others who wouldn't believe it and would always consider her a traitor.

After getting her own clothes back and being lead out of the jail she found herself on an empty street. It was early in the morning, much too early for the normal courthouse staff and business to be taking place. She turned at the only vehicle breaking up the quiet stillness of the morning. An early morning bus drove by, almost empty except for the driver. It was after the bus passed that she saw the man she'd been longing to find waiting for her.

Red couldn't help the small barely perceptible grin when he realized Lizzie saw them waiting for her. He straightened up as he saw her speed towards him. She stopped an arm length away. They just looked at each other. Taking in the sight of the other unharmed and safe. She nearly launched herself into his arms, wrapping her own around him in a tight hug which he returned. After nearly five weeks together, twenty-four hours a day, these last two days were the longest they had been apart since this whole incident started. She didn't realize how much she missed his presence. His solid dependable presence. She was going to miss this. She knew he needed to get back to his business while she settled into her new role as confidential informant/consultant to the taskforce.

Their life may be different now that he didn't need to protect her 24/7, but she knew that his protection would always be around her. Hiding in the shadows until needed. This was a protection she used to resent, but now treasured. But, for one last night she'd stay with Red and enjoy their time .


End file.
